


Cutting Loose

by crishcrash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Denial of Feelings, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas Moirallegiance, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Abuse, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sober Gamzee Makara, a lil, but a very very bad one, i suck ass at tagging hmmm, just bros bein bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:15:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crishcrash/pseuds/crishcrash
Summary: The kids have spent years on the meteor together. Dave and Karkat have become especially close, much to Gamzee's chagrin. When Gamzee goes too far, how will Dave come in to be the hero he wants to be for Karkat?





	1. I Just Wanna Be Here For You

**Author's Note:**

> hey yall! so this is my first fic like, ever. i am babey, if you will. so pls do not hesitate to give me feedback!! i would actually appreciate it a lot!!!!
> 
> i was inspired to write this fic bc i was havin Bad Trauma Time so what do we do? we reflect it onto fictional characters amen brother
> 
> if u wanna follow me on my socials my twitter is ghostytrckstr and my tumblr is ghostytrickstr but im more active on twitter tbh :0

It's been months since Gamzee first went sober. No one had seen him in that time, only the aftermath of the havoc he's wrecked on the meteor. The walls were splattered in indigo and olive, broken bow and bloody clubs lying in Makara's wake. Their friends’ decapitated heads were posted up on pedestals in a jury trial that led to Vriska's demise, whose body he took the liberty of sneaking off into the night with. That was the last anyone had seen of him. 

Anyone, except for Karkat.

Rose, Dave, Terezi, and Kanaya were all fully aware that Karkat had continued the pair's pale relationship; needless to say, no one liked that decision. Moirails are important and typically the relationship is one-sided, but he had let too much go in the name of passiveness. There were days where he wouldn't leave his respiteblock, wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. He felt that if he wasn't at Gamzee's every beck and call, he would have to live with the weight of another death on his shoulders, blood on his hands. He calls it self-sacrifice, the other teens call it unhealthy. Little did they know, the emotional burden was only the tip of the duo's iceberg. 

The final breaking point comes one quiet, sleepy night. Dave is currently dicking around in his room, leaving Rose and Kanaya to some peace and quiet as they fiddle with whatever the fuck science they were doing. The beats he was laying down for them were too hot, and they couldn't handle that fire right now. 

The meteor's brick walls could bounce sound off of them like it was a cave. That's how Dave happened to hear muffled cries coming from down the corridor while he took a quick break from dropping sick rhymes. A wave of panic washes over him. Before he could think twice, he was on his feet and tiptoeing across the metal floor. Why was he so alarmed? 

_ Karkat's room was the only one that still belonged to a living soul at the end of this hall. _

Dave sticks to the wall like his life depended on it, careful to make as little noise as he could. Of course, that was damn near impossible considering this whole fuckin' rock reverberated every sound that took place inside. He crept along with bated breath until he was inches away from the troll's doorknob when a second, scarier thought hit him like a bag of bricks. The hair along the nape of his neck shot up.  _ Fuck _ , he thinks,  _ I'm no good at comfort. Not like Vantas is. _ He weighed his options. Make a fool of yourself in an attempt to support your bro, or quietly slink back off to your turntables and shame? 

...Fuck it. This is important. Usually, Karkat is a pretty verbal dude, he doesn't hide away in his room to cry. Call it friendly instinct, call it a raging crush on Karkat Vantas that had Dave doing things he'd never dare attempt before, but something was wrong. 

A soft  _ rap, rap, rap _ at Karkat's door stops the soft weeps coming from the other side.

Dave finally remembers he was holding his breath. He released with a long exhale before he followed up with a hesitant greeting.

"Hey... uh, Karkat?" 

Empty words come from the other end of the entry. "Yeah, that's me dumbass. What, did you forget who's fucking room you were knocking on?" They don’t have the edge they usually do. It doesn’t sound like the same fiery troll that Dave grew to know and love. Before the boy has a chance to break from his thoughts, Karkat starts once more.

“Strider, if you’re just going to stand outside of my block like a goddamn pervert, I’m going to shove my foot up your ass,” he lets out a big huff in between sniffles. “I’m... busy, okay?”

“Do you, um, need a hand?” Dave blurts. “Wh- I mean! Notlikethatwa- Ididn’tmeantosay-” He opens his mouth and lets out the messiest string of word-vomit known to mankind.  _ Smooth move, stupid. Pull yourself together. _

Once again, his train of thought was interrupted. This time, however, the voice of interference was accompanied by a small blanket ghost opening the door and presenting himself in the entryway. Karkat has his eyes down at his feet, shoulders hunched and one hand peeking out of his knitted haven to open up the door. Rose must’ve made him the quilt earlier today, Dave recognizes the color of yarn as the same that his ectosister was using in the common room. So she was trying to comfort him in her own Rose way…  _ Does that mean he’s been this way all day? _

In a stroke of pure genius, the blonde decides to ask the one question no one likes to answer when they’re upset. 

“Uh… Are you, like, okay?” Karkat scoffs at that, giving no further response. He keeps quiet and shrugs, but Dave stares in awkward silence until he pipes up.

“I’ll live,” He replies matter-of-factly, but the hints of pain in his voice give him away.  _ Probably. I’ll probably live _ , he thinks,  _ but who knows with that fucking clown _ . The waterworks begin soon after. The smaller teen’s shoulders start to heave while red drops from his face and onto the floor below him. He crumples under the weight on his shoulders and nearly doubles over. 

_ Oh shit,  _ Dave’s only thought pounds through his head.  _ Ohshitohshitohshit. _

Dave does the only thing he’s seen trolls use as emotional support: physical comfort. He’d do the weird head pat thing, but doesn’t exactly know how and he thinks it might be a… troll relationship thing? He doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Slowly, Dave shuffles closer to the heap below him, careful in his moves to avoid startling his friend. One hand makes its way to the top of Karkat’s back, while the other hooks around his shoulders. It’s a stiff, nervous hug, but dammit Dave is trying.

Karkat recoils for a moment before he takes a slow, deep breath and relaxes slightly into the embrace. He doesn’t, however, hug back.  _ I don’t want to feel like I can’t even trust one of my best friends. _ He raises his face to look up at pitch-black shades, raising a yarn covered hand to wipe at his bleary eyes.

The first word that comes to mind looking at Karkat is “exhausted.” Everyone has sort of looked that way since Karkat banned sleep on the meteor after he saw Jack in his dream. This exhausted look is different though, he seems drained of any Karkat-esque spunk. A husk. Dave looks on further to discover red-tinted bruises scattering his face and neck, making his heart sink and his rage rise.

Without either saying a word, the troll in Dave’s hands curls back up, this time into the other’s chest. Dave didn’t expect the sudden act of affection in the slightest, especially from Karkat, but he isn’t complaining. The hand previously placed around Karkat’s shoulder gets relocated to the back of his head, cradling him and playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Together, they stand in the doorway, clinging to each other like they were the only two people in this universe. The longer they stood conjoined, Dave could feel cold, damp tears seep into the front of his shirt. 

“Hey um… Let’s get somewhere more comfy? Snug as a bug type shit?” Dave asks barely above a whisper but doesn’t expect an answer. He peers over the crown of Karkat’s head to look inside his room. He had gotten rid of his pile entirely, probably because he hasn’t slept anyway. The only two remaining options in the troll’s room are the floor or his crappy desk chair that can barely hold up the weight of one person at this point in its life, let alone two. “You wanna go to the common room couches?”

Karkat shakes his head hard. The last thing he wants is to feel even more exposed. What if someone walks in? What if  _ Gamzee _ walks in? 

“Okay, that’s fine! Those couches suck anyway, right! Um,” Dave comforts and props his head on top of the troll’s, taking a moment to think again. “You want to go to my room?” 

He feels a small nod and sharp claws digging into the fabric of his shirt. It’s not until now that he realizes Karkat is shaking like a leaf. 

“It’s alright,” Dave murmurs, nuzzling into an expanse of fluffy black hair. “We don’t have to even talk if you don’t want to. You could tell me to fuck off right now and I would skedaddle my ass right the hell out, I just want to be here for you. You know, like, what bros do.”

If he had any energy to do so, Karkat would laugh at Dave, even in this situation, trying to make himself appeal completely and utterly straight.

This feels wrong. The last thing Karkat had expected out of tonight was his good friend seeing this new part of him. Of course, it wasn’t new to Karkat; it’s been like this nearly every night since Gamzee dropped the sopor. Hiding wounds and injuries had become common practice. No one else had really seen the physical effects that Makara’s newfound sobriety had on Karkat, or they were really good about keeping their mouths shut. He hated the lack of control he felt from this whole situation: feeling like he can’t stop Gamzee from hurting both him and the others, and now breaking down in front of Dave. He feels naked, weak. Troll instinct is typically always to fight back, so  _ why the fuck is he acting like this? _ He wanted to hole up away from everyone, but deep inside he knew what was best at the moment. More importantly, he didn’t want to be a sitting duck in his room for Gamzee to pounce back on.

When he finally felt comfortable enough, Karkat detaches from the Strider’s body and wipes his eyes clear of any stray red tear streaks. Dave motions for him to hold his hand as they made their way across the corridor, but there was hesitance. Cautiously, he peers down at the long stretch of dark, dank hallway. 

“Don’t sweat it, dude, I wouldn’t let anything get us,” Dave reassures Karkat. “I mean, who wants to fuck with this guy? Total fuckin’ bodybuilder right here.”

Karkat can’t help but scoff a little at that. He appreciates Dave trying to get him laughing.

“You’re 110 pounds soaking wet, shit-for-brains.”

“I’m wounded, roasted in my own home? A man takes his Flintstones vitamins, give me a little more credit than that.” Dave ponders his options on how he can make Karkat feel safest. Realistically, he knows it’s unlikely anyone would be able to come near them before they hear them approaching, but he’s trying to understand the vulnerable state his bro is in. 

“Here, how ‘bout this. You get your sickle, I’ll weaponize my fists of pure unadulter-fuckin’-ated fury. I can carry you so that you can keep watch behind me from over my shoulder and I can scout out the front.”

“Doesn’t sound very heterosexual of you, Strider,” Karkat jests. It’s stupid, spectacularly so. But looking back at Dave, it feels… safe? As safe as he can feel.

“Woah there, we’re all aboard the straight train here buddy.” Dave crouches down and holds out his arms, ready to pick up the troll.

_ …Idiot. _

Karkat agrees to the proposal.

_ The best idiot. _

He scampers off quickly to his desk, sorting through the piles of garbage amidst his husktop to find his weapon. He equips the pink and green striped sickle and quickly hustles back to the door, averting his eyes from the majority of his room; all it’s doing right now is reminding him of events he’d rather not recall. He has to abandon his blanket sanctuary to lock his arms around Dave’s neck, careful not to jab him with his blade. Dave grabs under the troll’s thighs and hoists him up and onto his hip. It feels really weird for both of them; Karkat feels the guilt boiling within him.  _ This is just friendly, _ he thinks.  _ God, if Gamzee saw this… _

Truth be told, he was fucking petrified of Gamzee finding this scene between them. Karkat had dreamed of breaking their moirallegiance off ever since he started his murder-happy rampages and wanting to be a subjugglator like his bloodline, but the bone-chilling terror of possible repercussions from the other troll has stopped him. Gamzee had been threatening things if they broke up, usually murder or suicide. In the back of his mind, Karkat knew it was all talk, but the screaming dread kept him locked into this relationship. He used to be chill, a great moirail. He would  _ ask what went wrong? _ but he knows the answer. 

He braces his chin on top of Dave’s shoulder, and off they went. Dave is trying his hardest to be quiet while they’re in the hallway. He doesn’t want any sound to echo and make Karkat paranoid someone would hear. He hustles as fast as he can while holding the troll. Karkat is fairly average build; he’s not particularly muscular, but not really thick or thin either. So it comes as a surprise when he has any sort of muscle resistance when he lifted Karkat.  _ What the fuck, either trolls are way heavier than they look or I’m getting weak,  _ he ponders to himself. He’ll have to ask Kanaya about that later.

With no problem, the pair reaches the door to Dave’s room. Dave takes one hand out from under Karkat to turn the knob to his bedroom. 

What greets the two inside is a pretty similar replication of what Dave knew as his bedroom pre-SBURB, minus all his childhood memories and the stray random puppet from his brother. He didn’t have much of a mess; he honestly hated clutter. He grew up with it in every crevice of his apartment back in Texas so he refuses to be like his Bro. Various swords of his strifekind hung on the walls above his bed, and along the opposite wall sat his turntables. Wires and cables zig-zagged all across the floor to connect his various speakers. Add in his closet, some pictures hanging on the wall and scattered across his desk, and this was…

“Voila! Casa De Strider,” Dave announces. Karkat doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s pretty sure those are two different languages he just mixed. “The only place for both of us to sit is my bed, is that alright?”

This is such a foreign goddamn feeling. They’re so comfortable with each other, nearly inseparable. Usually, Karkat would poke fun of him for even asking that question.  _ Are you thick in the skull? Why wouldn’t it be?  _

But something in him is screaming to be as far away from all contact possible. He can feel memories creep through his skin. Suddenly, Dave’s touch no longer felt like home, but pure hell. He wants to jump out of his touch right now, just as much as he wants to leap out of his own skin.

“I can sit on the desk chair,” Karkat winces at his own words. “I mean, if that’s fine with you?”

“Yeah, dude, of course-” 

Karkat slides out of his loosened grip before he could even finish his sentence. He shuffles to the desk chair and sets his feet up on the seat, knees to his chest. 

It hurts for Dave to see him like this. Karkat is one of the strongest people on this rock, hands down the loudest and most outspoken, and here he is. Scared, isolated, quiet. 

Dave locks the door behind him as he shuts it, maneuvering around wires carefully while he makes his way to the bed and eventually sits across from Karkat.

Dave still sees strength in that shitty desk chair. No amount of fear or silence can make him see Karkat otherwise.

For a long while, they sit in silence. It isn’t tense though; there’s never an awkward moment between the two boys. 

_ ‘I just want to be here for you.’ _

The words echo and bounce in Karkat’s mind as he releases the tension in his shoulders and relaxes in his seat. No amount of words can make him fully feel safe while Gamzee is out, but being here with Dave makes him the most comfortable he’s been in months. No expectation or pressure to reveal anything, no discomfort or walking on eggshells, just genuine care. Strider really is better at consolation than he thinks he is.

It takes an hour for Karkat’s voice to emerge.

“I don’t think I can talk right now.”

“You’re fine. You don’t gotta tell me jack shit man, I just don’t want you to be alone.”

_ Alone.  _ A threatening word. Thinking about going back to his respite makes the hair on Karkat’s arms stand on end. Memories flood back as he thinks about what happens when he’s alone. 

Claws and teeth. Frozen to his spot. A dirty, disgusting feeling that he can never wash off.

Gradually, the troll’s eyes unfocus and the world is quieter. Muffled from the outside, but it doesn’t feel protective. It feels suffocating. It’s as if his brain isn’t connected to his actions anymore. He can move, talk, react, but it’s as if an outsider is controlling his body. 

_ A puppet. No matter where he is or where I am or what he does, he has his fucking grasp on me. Always controlled, strings from the puppeteer cutting off my fucking circulation. How could I just let him fucking do that to m- _

“Karkat?”

When did Dave end up crouched next to his chair?

“Sorry.” Stupor not entirely broken, Karkat’s response sounds relatively flat. It seems like someone else is talking for him, and his body feels increasingly floaty.

“Can you spell my name?”

“What?”

“C’mon broseph, just spell it out.” Dave can’t begin to know how Karkat feels, but he does know a little about what’s going on. Rose called it dissociation, or at least that’s what Dave is guessing is happening. Glazed eyes, flat tone, like he’s checked out.

“D-a-v-e.”

“Yeah man. And yours?”

“K-a-r-k-a-t.” As the letters come from his mouth, the feeling of cotton dislodges itself slowly but surely from his head. 

“A spelling bee champ in this bitch. I bow to the master.”

Karkat rubs his eyes hard and the feeling of control is returning, starting with his hands. He balls up his fists and releases, then outstretches his knees, and after moving through each body part he feels like he’s back on the ground.

“You remember where you are?”

Karkat nods. 

“We’re in the fuckin’ Playboy Mansion. Get some hookers and blow up in here. Dim these lights and play some goddamn Lady Gaga cuz I’m boutta get white girl wasted.”

“I said I remember, shitmouth.” Karkat snorts and shoves playfully at the man in front of him. 

“Hey, just had to make sure you remembered,” Dave snickers, holding his hands up in defense as he moves back to his spot on the bed. “Can’t have a single man, woman, or child on meteor forgetting I got the sickest bachelor pad on Earth.”

“Dave, you can’t fucking say meteor and earth in the same sentence, you dense asshole. Earth is literally annihilated. Are those shades too tight on your goddamn head? You’re cutting off blood flow to your thick skull.”

“Aw, you think I’m thick?” Dave ignores all previous statements and bats his eyelashes behind black tint. “You sayin’ I got cake? Karkat, I never knew you felt that way about me.”

“First of all, how dare you use human terminology I don’t understand. What the fuck do baked goods have to do with this scenario? Second of all, your ass lacks voluptuousness so much so that I wonder if it inverts in on itself, you twig.”

“Damn, jealousy is a disease bro, get well soon.” Dave retorts and chuckles lightly. Karkat rolls his eyes, but he’s struggling to keep his smirk hidden. The two go back to a friendly silence. They both know they could go on forever, and forever Dave would love to continue on, but the question is looming in the air.

“Is it okay with you if I sleep here for a little while?”

“I was waiting for you to ask, man. Of course.”


	2. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite how comfortable Karkat feels around Dave, his brain can't let him enjoy that feeling for long. The guilt and shame of what Gamzee has done, which he still refuses to talk about, eat him up inside. Days turn to nights, and nights turn to nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall!! um so this is ch 2! again: i appreciate any and all comments and constructive criticism u have for me pls tell me!!! i want to get better and i want ppl to like this fic because i'm honestly in love with it :)) for this chapter i tried to most closely model what my flashbacks are like (after all this is a self indulgent "express my trauma thru karkat" fic woops) anyway i hope u like it aah!
> 
> if ya want, follow me on twitter ! @ghostytrckstr
> 
> edit: just realized none of the italics translated thru and ima keep it real, too lazy to edit them in so ! thats how it be !  
another edit: fixed it lmao

It’s been just a week since Karkat and Dave talked - or didn’t talk, really. Karkat has understandably been holding back on telling Dave or any of the others about what’s going on with Gamzee, and honestly, Dave isn’t complaining. He both does and doesn’t want to know. He wants to support his best friend to the ends of their space rock, but he also doesn’t know if he could handle what news he thinks he’ll get.

He’s calmed Karkat down enough, with Rose’s guidance, to get him to sleep. Slowly, of course, but he’s sleeping a couple of hours a night now, and that’s better than nothing. He was too paranoid about sleeping without a dreamself and the dream bubbles were a little confusing at first, but he’s trusting more. Dave would like to think he’s trusting him more.

What Karkat has opened up about are his nightmares. A lot of them. He said they used to be chucklevoodoos from Gamzee, but he alchemized some sopor slime to spread across his chest at night to sleep. Like some troll Vics Vaporub shit. But even though he can’t be affected by chucklevoodoos, his nightmares now reflect them, and Gamzee, instead. Sure, one reason why he banned sleeping is that he was scared of what would happen since their dreamselves are dead, but also due to the debilitating night terrors. Karkat won’t tell him what they contain, but Dave can assume from the sweating, shaking, hyperventilating wake-ups that they aren’t nice. Dave hasn’t slept the past couple of days so he could watch over Karkat at night, taking care of him during one of these episodes.

And tonight is one of those nights.

The faint glow of Dave’s laptop is currently the only source of illumination in the room. The low hum of his desk fan and Karkat lightly snoring behind him in bed, mixed with the growing sleep deprivation, makes his eyelids that much heavier. It’s been days of staying up, and as much as he would hate to leave Karkat semi-alone, unable to keep watch, he is so fuckin’ tired.

_I’ll just lie down,_ Dave argued with himself. _No one has ever gotten hurt from a little chillin’ out._

He rests the laptop on his chest and continues to scroll mindlessly, gently settling himself beside Karkat’s legs at the edge of the bed. The monitor brightness gets turned down to avoid waking the peacefully sleeping troll next to him.

Ideas for his next comic float by like sheep, one by one, until Dave eventually passes out. A picture-perfect scene for both of them is spread out on the comforter. Karkat, sleeping without interruption from nightmares and Dave, finally getting proper shut-eye in the most uncomfortable sprawled out pose against the foot of the bed. For hours, they lay side-by-side, although Karkat is about 4 feet higher up on the bed than Dave.

For hours, beautiful dreams pass through Dave’s mind. Most of them are mundane: life before SBURB, fucking around the meteor, making beats, and talking to friends. Fairly simple, with one similarity tying them all together. Every time Dave has been able to sleep, it’s Karkat.

It’s always fucking Karkat.

The grocery store back home, with _Karkat_.

Cleaning his room, with _Karkat_.

Alchemizing on the meteor, with _Karkat’s_ help.

Dave mixing music on his turntables, _Karkat’s_ hands underneath his while he guides them to the various knobs and random shit beyond them. One headset is occupied by Dave, the other against Karkat’s stark black hair.

Messaging _Karkat_ on Pesterchum, expressing how much they miss each other. Reassuring each other, yearning to hold one another.

Dave jolts awake, shades banished to the long expanse of bed in front of him. For a long while, Dave just continues to lie in the dark red comfort of his blankets, rubbing bloodshot eyes and hoping Rose can’t read minds. _I do not want to know how she could psychoanalyze those_.

He rests in his own cold sweat and half-comatose stupor for a while, rebooting his brain, before he registers the lack of warmth joining him in bed. A suspicious absence of a troll-shaped lump beside his head.

Across the room from him is the lump in question. Karkat is confined to the desk chair once again, facing the door with wide, wild eyes. Suddenly, Dave’s ears are filled with shaking, stuttered breaths, and the occasional lack thereof which is even more terrifying for both of them.

“Hey, Karkat, dude?” Dave slowly approaches the boy in the chair across from him.

Karkat doesn’t notice Dave at all. As much as he would kill to focus on anything but what’s going on right now, all he is reminded of is Gamzee. His balled up fists suddenly go to his eyes and he curls further into himself, breathing getting even more rapid and uncontrollable.

“Karkat!”

_Uncontrollable._ It taunts him every day, especially moments like this. How can he have such terrible memories, even in his sleep? His face feels like static and his body is a cloud, and all his brain has is memories of paint smearing onto his lips, and claws digging into his sides. The putrid smell of sickly sweet soda, infiltrating his nose.

“Kaaarkat.”

Karkat is torn from the darkness behind his eyelids with the sudden shock of hearing that voice. _No, that isn’t real, I’m in Dave’s room._ Tears stream down his face, but he can’t feel their dampness. All his senses are spinning like a tornado, and the eye of the storm has long, scraggly and rabid eyes locking onto him like prey. In front of Karkat is his worst nightmare, turned reality once again.

“C’mon, homie,” the words twist into his mind as a tongue trails up his neck, around the shell of his ear. “Aren’t we still the best of motherfuckin’ friends?”

A grey hand emerges from the blackout surrounding him, reaching out like it’s ready to latch on. But the feeling of nails breaking skin is already around his throat.

No. Fuck off. Fuck off.

“FUCK. OFF!” The squeeze tightens as his airflow is completely cut. All that’s left of his voice is sputters and gasps, jerking away from touches against his thighs that he knows aren’t there to begin with. Maybe.

Dave is trying to get Karkat’s attention, but he knows what’s happening. The last thing he should be doing right now is trying to shout for him to get to concentrate on him, that’ll freak him out more. In a panic, he dashes his eyes left and right for anything he could hold onto. He scrambles for a pillow on the bed and gently approaches Karkat once again.

“Karkat. Hey, dork.”

The words barely manage to cut the fog in Karkat’s head, but one word echoes past Gamzee’s voice. The two mesh and blend, but through it all the name “dork” jumps past his daze. _That’s Dave._ He screws his eyes shut once again, red-tinted tears streaking down his face. His chest feels like it’s collapsing and every fiber of his being is telling him to curl back in on himself, but a soft plush feeling meets his hands. Not daring to open his eyes, Gamzee’s voice still infiltrating his mind, he reaches one shakey hand out to grasp at the pillow Dave is offering.

“It’s okay. You’re still safe. It’s only you and me here.”

Between his sputtering lungs and intense sensations of Gamzee’s supposed presence, Karkat is at a loss. He clutches the pillow to his chest and attempts to take a deeper breath, but his lungs only expand enough for another fit of hyperventilation.

“It’s only you and me dude, promise,” Dave continues to reassure Karkat, encouraging him with every breath he tries to take. “It’s like, that pillow’s your lungs kinda right? When you breathe in, let it get bigger, and when you let it all out you can squeeze it tight as hell.”

In an effort to not feel like he’s choking on nothing, Karkat tries to mimic Dave’s steps. Although not the strongest, he lets air in through his mouth and lets his vice grip on the pillow loosen slightly. He can hear Dave breathing along with him as he steadily pushes it back out, crushing the pillow back into his body as he does so.

“Yeah, just like that, you’re all good man. Remember, just you and me Karkat.” It helps to hear it’s only them. In times like this, it’s hard for Karkat to remember that. Dave sure doesn’t know a lot, but it seems like repetition has helped keep his friend on the ground during episodes.

_In and out, in and out_, like Dave is telling him. Together, they breathe as one. Slowly but surely, Karkat has loosened up his rigid body and cracks open his puffy, exhausted eyes.

Crouched before him is everything Karkat could ask for in these moments. A voice of reason. His ground. Reality is still in the process of coming back to him, but with Dave in front of him, he knows where he is. Knows that he’s…

“How are ya feelin?” Dave asks, a hesitant yet reassuring smirk tugging at his lips, making his eyes crinkle. His weird accent always tends to come out when he’s nervous.

“Safe.” Karkat knows that he’s safe.

“Sweet,” Dave’s smirk turns into the smallest smile. He offers out a hand to the troll above him. “Is touchin’ okay? Or no?”

Karkat can’t tell if his heart is pumping in his ears because of his nerves, because he was just unable to breathe for god knows how long, or because he is suddenly extremely aware of something he would never like to admit to himself.

“Uh, not right now… If that’s okay.”

“Course it is, bro. But you wanna go back to bed now?” Dave is still kind of exhausted

“I’m too awake now,” Karkat sighs. The sopor on his chest was now fully dissolved, and between his heartbeat and his hormones, he wouldn’t be able to sleep to save his life. “But you can if you want. I’m fine.”

“For sure, but wake me up if you want anything, aight?”

“Mhm.”

Dave glares down the bridge of his nose at his friend. “Anything, Karkat.”

But Karkat would never admit he wishes they were back in bed, nuzzling into the warmth of Dave’s body as they drift peacefully. And Dave would never be the one to suggest it either, no matter how much he’s thinking of it as he crawls under his covers.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice movie night with Dave bears an unpleasant mark of a beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS its been such a long time since ive updated this but im feelin it during quarantine and i have another fic im working on too but i cannot neglect my fav !! 
> 
> if u want, follow me on twitter for dumb homestuck posts: @ghostytrckstr
> 
> and ofc i always appreciate any feedback ive received i havent written fanfic in a while and im always working on it !!! anyway if ur still reading this i love u

Dim green light pours from the screen of Dave’s laptop screen, the whir of its shitty old internal fan louder than anything else in the room. Their typical routine. Karkat sleeps, Dave messes around online and, once in a blue moon, leaves the room to hang with the others. He doesn’t have the heart to leave Karkat for too long, though. Today, however, he’s gonna have to. _ Forgive me, sleeping bastard. _

Karkat didn’t know it, but Dave had something planned up his sleeve. Every couple of hours for the past week, Dave had been quietly creeping away to alchemize some human magnificence for him and Karkat to binge.

“Dave, why the ever-loving shit did you make me watch that trainwreck of a series?”

While everyone else on the meteor are peacefully dozed off, Dave and Karkat had other plans for the night. They agreed on, in Strider language, “the sickest movie dat- I mean marathon of all time” tonight.

“For your information,” Dave smirks and nudges Karkat’s shoulder with his own, “the _ Twilight _ franchise is a piece of human delicacy, the New Testament of fantasy as we know it. Just don’t ask Rose. Or Egbert. Actually don’t ask anyone, this is a sacred art right here.”

Karkat doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, but they just can’t help but gravitate towards the ceiling as he stands up to switch the movie in the DVD player. “If that’s art, my movie is godly beyond comprehension.”

“If we watch The Rebound one more time I think my brain is going to spontaneously combust. Who the fuck writes the character’s kids walking in on them? Why is she 15 years younger than him?”

“Why was the pale guy from Twilight so creepily overbearing and possessive? Why did Bella have a rainbow drinker child with him?”

“Don’t you bring Renesmee into this,” Dave can’t hold back a snicker while he half-heartedly defends his problematic fave. He props his upper half up against the arm of the couch and stretches his lanky legs across the length of half the cushion space. No need to be on the edge of his seat anymore, now that Bella’s sparkly love triangle is over for the night.

Karkat sifts through their shared stacks of movies before finding the perfect title. Pulling out Groundhog Day, it briefly brings him back to a small memory in the very back of his mind. His brain taunts, constantly, _ Remember when you watched this after calming Gamzee down?, Remember when you listened to this song while Gamzee love-bombed you over Trollian?, How about the smell of popcorn wafting over from Dave’s side of the room? Reminds you of the movie dates you had, right? _

He shakes his head violently and, in the process, temporarily shakes those thoughts away. On a better day, he’s able to make them go away for a little. But even on a good day, they’re there.

Living with this — what did Rose call it? — post-traumatic what-the-fuck has made his already chaotic internal issues even more of a whirlwind. It isn’t exactly how she said it would feel. 

_ “Usually, PTSD manifests as unwarranted reminders of the event, such as your nightmares, and those that suffer with it will do anything in their power to avoid those reminders.” _Karkat recalls those words creeping out of Rose’s mouth like a viper with a vice grip on his neck. How dare those four simple letters explain exactly what he’d been feeling for years, that he couldn’t describe in words himself.

But as time goes on, his mind stretches beyond that small definition. It went from, “I can’t be in my respiteblock anymore,” to “If someone touches me my skin crawls,” and as of late, “All of the above, plus if someone raises their voice, changes their tone, looks at me wrong, or brings up past memories involving or connected to Gamzee in any way, I spiral into a full-blown panic or anger outburst.”

And Karkat is fucking sick of it. There are days where he feels like nothing could touch him, like he’s safe. Then there are days where he’s on defense, and every outstretched hand looks like a threat. Even today, a perfect movie day with Dave, has ended up with an unbearable reminder of what he’s going through. Out of fucking nowhere.

His lusus never raised him like this. To be such a wriggler, a weakling. _ I could take down that damn clown _, Karkat argues with himself.

But a voice always taunts him.

“So why don’t you, motherfucker?”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And I can’t help but feel like I’m being _ mocked _,” Karkat forces out. “My entire life, I ran and hid from danger. I was fucking raised to get low and out of the way of the drones to survive, where did those instincts go? Why were they tossed to the wind for one purple-blooded bastard?”

Karkat doesn’t want to depend on Dave. Realistically, he doesn’t want to depend on anyone or anything but himself, but everyone has told him that’s a bad idea. He tends to have “therapy sessions” with Rose. At first, he completely shut down the idea; it just sounded like a feelings jam that Gamzee could listen in on from the vents, and he prefers to bottle everything up if it means he isn’t slaughtered. But as the humans described it to him a little more, it started making a little more sense. Rose during this time was considered, for all intents and purposes, not a friend but an outside perspective.

“Karkat, you have to remember the various bricks stacked up against you. You were threatened with the death of your friends if you left. He wasn’t always this way, you thought you had found your couple of higher-blooded friends you could trust and then he does a 180. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to trust, and be loved. Emotional threat wasn’t something programmed into your genetic instinct to run from.”

“Well what about all those times he fucking physically hurt me then, huh? What about all the beatings, and getting every kind of act under the suns forced onto me? I’m a fucking idiot for not getting out.” Karkat spat. 

“Would you say that about someone else?”

Karkat paused. “What?”

“I said, would you think the same way about someone else in your situation? If someone else was in an abusive situation, would you ridicule them for not getting out?”

“Well… no.”

“Then why, just because you’re a troll with a blood color lower on the completely bullshit caste system your society created to keep you down, do you put those expectations upon yourself?”

He doesn’t want to answer that question.

“I wish that fucker would fall off the face of this rock already,” he huffs, in lieu of confronting the question at hand.

“Well, we’ve seen crazier things happen. Who knows? Maybe he will,” Rose shrugs as she jots some things down in her hand-bound notebook. “But Karkat, that won’t help you long-term. The damage he did to you, sadly, is done. He could die and the intricate webs of self-hatred and emotional harm would still remain.”

More silence on Karkat’s end. _ She’s too good at seeing right through me. _

“Let’s imagine he isn’t dead, since right now we don’t actually know his current state of being,” Rose proposes. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I want to…” Karkat drifts off, thinking hard about what the _ fuck _he wants.

He thinks back to that night. The last night he saw Gamzee. The first day of him and Dave’s pining-roommate situation. The invaluable comfort of knowing if Gamzee came back, he wouldn’t have to fend him off alone.

“I want to feel safe again. I don’t fucking know how, but I just don’t want to feel like I could get attacked from any angle at all times. It’s goddamn tiring. I want sleep. I want to SLEEP, for more than 4 hours, so bad.”

“Then let’s do it.”

“How?” Karkat scoffs. “He’s basically in our goddamn ceilings.”

“You are a fighter, Karkat. You have fight in your blood just as much as you do flight. So let’s hone that. You don’t have to be scared of his looming threat anymore. While we work on undoing the emotional tangle, why not learn some self defense?”

“I-,” Karkat stutters, tripping over his words. Every cell in his body is telling him to not even try, to give up.

“I… like that idea.”


	4. Wack-a-Strider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After having his latest therapy session with Rose, Karkat and his friends start his trainings in self-defense in hopes to work on his confidence and precision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HI HI I AM ON A ROLL BABEY i have chapter 5 already written but im releasing it the coming weekend ! ive been sitting on this for a while so i rly hope u like it and as always, criticism appreciated !
> 
> I AM CURRENTLY OPENING FIC WRITING REQUESTS/COMMISSIONS !! all profits will go to Chicago based organizations and bail funds ! for more info, go to the carrd on my twitter !!! @ghostytrckstr

“So, Rose told you that beating my ass... will help?” Dave questions.

“She wants me to start self-defense training with someone I know with the most confidence won’t cave my nugbone in you idiot,” Karkat retorts back at him. “She didn’t specifically prescribe assault-a-Strider. That part’s, uh… well I wouldn’t say my choice because I don’t want to actually kill you but...”

Dave can’t seem to focus on anything else Karkat is saying. All he can think of is one thing.

_ That’s a lot of words to say he trusts me _ , the back of the Strider’s head echoes.  _ Trusts me. _

“I have never been more honored to get my ass handed to me.”

“Shut up, it’s not actually going to hurt, just wear padding,” Karkat lightly slaps his arm and rolls his eyes. “Do you think I want to fucking hurt you?”

“I’m not sure how to break this to you, but you could probably KO me in two punches dude. I know I can pick you up but you still got inches on me, and that superhuman - er, troll strength. I won’t just need padding, I’m gonna need a whole fuckin S.W.A.T. uniform.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The things you do for the ones you love.

For the past 30 minutes, Dave has been searching the entire meteor for every piece of clothing he could find. Shirts, pants, shit he’s even going for socks. He started with smaller sizes and built his way up to clothes he stole from Karkat over the past month-ish of them sharing a room. Pulling them on one by one, the end result had him padded to high hell. 35 layers. Of. Everything.

The things you do.

He walks, or more so waddles, out of his (and now, also Karkat’s) room and into the main foyer of the meteor to find Rose, Kanaya, and Karkat with their backs to him, speaking in low voices.

“We’re building you up. It’s going to start with Dave and you can just hit him,” Rose murmured to a sweating troll, “but as you get more confident eventually we’re going to have to make it to an actual scuffle situation. Just don’t think about that right now. Right now, it’s learning how to kick and swing.”

“I just don’t want to hurt him.” Karkat responds, letting Kanaya get near enough to give him a small circular rub to the center of his back. “I know he acts all tough but he’s a fucking wet spaghetti noodle.”

“With all due respect, Karkat, Dave is a grown human man just as you are a grown troll. You’ve been sleeping in the same bed for a month and he’s withstood you night kicks, I am sure there will be minimal issu-” 

In that moment, Rose raised her head and got a glimpse in her peripheral vision of what seemed to be the Michelin Man. However, upon closer inspection, it was none other than her dumbass ecto-brother.

“Uh. Hey. Hope I’m not getting all up in your guys’ jam, but... I’m sweating my ass off.”

After a second to fully digest the image in front of them, Rose and Kanaya burst into a fit of wild laughter. Even Karkat, the nervous wreck he was, let out a snort as he approached his friend.

“I knew what to expect, but I’m still thoroughly shocked at the image of a mountain of clothes on you,” Karkat playfully taunts. “How long did this take you?”

“That is strictly classified information.”

“Is that my sweater?”

“These are several of your sweaters, homie,” Dave reveals, and strikes a supermodel pose. “I know, I make it look good, don’t gotta tell me twice.”

With Rose and Kanaya still dying of laughter in the background of their conversation, Karkat tentatively jabs at Dave’s chest through the stacks of wool. “Did you… feel that?’

“Cut me some slack, I’m the fuckin’ Rock right now,” he laughs and fakes a flex through the many sweater arms.

Karkat frowns, swatting at the hand attached to his flexing arm. When Dave reflexively brings it back down to rest at his side, Karkat’s own hand lingers just a bit longer than usual above Dave’s to clutch at a few of his fingers.

“I’m serious, shitstick!” he squawks out. “I’m fucking afraid, I know I keep saying it but I really don’t want to hurt you. You humans are so fragile.”

In response, and in complete shock, Dave puts his other hand on top of Karkat’s. “And I’m serious. Some could say, I’m cereal. We have survived the craziest shit. You are not going to hurt me.” They lock eyes through shaggy black hair and Karkat’s grip loosens.

“Alright boys, are we ready?” Rose calls out. Freeing his hand from between Dave’s, Karkat gives a hesitant thumbs up.

There’s a quiet shuffling of feet in order to face Dave, holding his breath in hopes to tame his heart. 

“Remember: we can stop whenever you need,” Kanaya emerges from behind him. “This is not to make you uncomfortable, or recall anything that happened. It is only to teach you self-advocacy and, hopefully, a sense of safety.”

Letting his breath out through his nose, Karkat nods and positions his feet in a fighting stance. He isn’t totally unfamiliar with fighting maneuvers, it’s just… been a while.

“Okay, these are all things you know, Karkat, but things we can benefit from practicing. Dave is going to slowly bring his fist toward you, and I want you to do what you think of first.”

As instructed, Dave forms a fist and, incredibly slowly, brings it out to reach Karkat.

In the blink of an eye, he was on the ground landing hard on his shoulder. Thankfully, his padding does indeed work, so it isn’t so bad, but:

“What the fuck happened?”

Just as fast as he was down, Karkat was leaning over him and offering a hand up with concern written all over his face. Dave proved him wrong by shaking it off, taking Karkat’s hand and steadying himself back on his feet. 

“What happened, dear Dave, is your palemate still has Alternian instinct,” Kanaya stated matter-of-factly. 

“PALEMATE?”

“My apologies, did I say palemate? Anyway,” she quickly turns the conversation back around, “very good Karkat. You avoided the fist and utilized your lower frond to take him down. Let’s try another.”

Throughout the day until dinnertime, Karkat pulled through his stress to train with his friends. Each time, Dave went down and each time he got back up. He won’t admit to Karkat that he left bruises, but Dave will not be able to sit comfortably for a bit. 

_ But it’s okay _ , he thinks,  _ It’s for him. _

They ended the day concluding that Karkat knows his basics still, but he might be getting it too easy by having punch-sponge Dave. 

“Karkat, how would you feel about switching out Dave for me?” Kanaya asks with a tinge of uncertainty. “You know for a fact you would not hurt me. I want to see how you would do with someone faster and physically larger.”

“Um,” the tension in that one syllable could be cut with a knife.

In that moment, the world froze for Karkat. He could see Kanaya’s lips moving, but the words never met his brain. Everything felt slow-motion and uncomfortably fast all at once. The thought of training with another troll.  _ Just like Gam,  _ he thought. He didn’t realize he was biting at the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

_ Faster. Larger. Both words that perfectly describe Gamzee.  _ Sweat drips off his face, while tears threaten to follow.  _ Just like when I couldn’t defend myself against him. _

“Karkat, we talked about setting boundaries. No one is offended if you say no or yes, we’re here for you.” Rose reassures him from behind her wife.

Karkat begins wringing his hands and squirming uncomfortably.  _ Just fucking do something, you prick, don’t just stand here!  _ His head screams out. His eyes clench along with his teeth. He finds the strength to take a deep breath in and another out, before he opens teary eyes to say:

“I think we should stop, god damnit!” It rips from his throat, out of breath, and he swears he tastes blood. “We should...we should stop now."

He felt Dave’s hand guiding him back to the room to blow off steam before he could see him even move.


	5. The L Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of their training, Karkat and Dave have a feelings jam in bed. Neither of them could have expected how it would end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:DDD
> 
> tw for mentions of abuse !! i know thats a general tw for this entire fic but yakno take care of yourselves and happy pride month btw <33
> 
> check my twitter!!!! @ghostytrckstr

Later that night, midnight dew settled on the rocky floor outside of their room while they sit in complete stillness. Their legs entangle like their bedhead, and their foreheads are mashed up against each other. Karkat’s horns slightly dig into Dave’s head, but he’s too happy to care. There’s nothing in this multiverse he would trade for these moments. Peace, pure tranquility, with his best friend.  _ Is that the right word for it? _ He isn’t thinking about that right now, he doesn’t need to make it worrisome. After a long day of training with Karkat, all he wants to do is relax.

His cuddle partner on the other end of the bed, however, is muddling in his head. From the outside, his long lashes brush over his cheeks while he looks fast asleep. Beyond his relaxed exterior, though, is a battle field. Both metaphorically and literally.

All he can think about is Gamzee.

All of his thoughts, after all these months and so many days of complete separation from him.

_ Why the fuck? WHY THE FUCK? _

It’s in that moment that Dave realizes Karkat isn’t actually asleep, watching his eyebrows furrow in a way not humanly possible while dreaming peacefully.

“Are you still up?”

“I didn’t want you to know,” Karkat sighs and peaks open one eye. His scleras have streaks of red in them and the eye now cracked open is watering.

“Do you want to talk?”

_ Do I wanna talk? Of course I wanna talk, I could talk to you about anything and everything all the time you fucking dork. _

“I just…” Karkat hesitates. “Do you ever wish you could hate someone?”

“Huh?”

“Do you ever wish you could hate someone?” he reiterates to his weird not-palemate, with more insistence this time. “Wish you could hate what they do, who they are?”

“What’s this all about, dude?”  _ Um, um, um, what _ , Dave thinks while he vomits out a string of words he hopes makes sense.

“I’m just- I’m sorry.” Karkat is punching himself.  _ Idiot. He’s scared now. Clearly he thinks you aren’t over Gamzee. _ “I don't want to scare you. I’m not going anywhere Dave, please know that.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking bro, just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” That was absolutely what he was thinking. But he also does want- no,  _ need _ to know Karkat’s internal monologue.

“I don’t miss him. But…” It feels like the words are just pouring out, not in his control in the slightest. “What if I deserved it? What about all those better times we had together? He wasn’t always hitting me, and forcing me into shit. We had better times. I wish I could hate him, but my own stupid thinkpan is making me have sympathy for him.”

“‘Kay, so, I love you and for that reason I’m gonna stop you right there. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault. Fuck what he did for you, he manipulates everyone Kat. Everyone. Terezi, you, shit he manipulated  _ all _ of us.” Dave’s hand has somehow made its way to Karkat’s wild expanse of hair to card through while he talks. While his thoughts wander, so do his fingers. “No matter how good of times you had, no one should ever lay a damn finger on their partner. We both know that realistically. Rose-colored glasses, Kat, remember?”

“I know… I know. I just wish that I could have that mentality all of the time.” The guilt is welling up inside of him, threatening to spill out any minute. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t upset you or make you think I don’t wanna be with you or-”

Before he could continue his anxiety-induced spiral into sadness, Dave is pulling him back into his chest once again. He knew Karkat liked listening to his heartbeat to breathe in count to, and it just reminds him he’s safe. Slowly but surely, his rapid breathing slows with the beat of Dave’s own, and they’re once again back to laying in silence.

Dave, very characteristic of him, breaks that silence. 

“I’m sorry that I panicked and made your emotions and trauma about me. That’s never something I want to do.”

“I’m so-”

“Shut your trap, you don’t gotta apologize ‘bout nothin’.”

“Okay…” 

And there they lay. Once again, life is still and the only thing that matters is the sound of each other’s breath and the warmth of each others bodies clustered together while confined in the cold walls of the meteor. 

“Hey Dave?”

“Yeah man?”

“Did you say you love me?”


	6. Avoidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave is struggling to admit what he knows is true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN

“Dave, wait, I’m sorry!” Before Karkat could reach for Dave’s arm, he was halfway out the door. Silent, and deliberately keeping his breathing even. Karkat could tell; it’s the breathing exercises they’d do together. Together, when Dave was having a flashback. Together, when Karkat was awake from a nightmare. “Where the fuck are you even gonna go, Dave? This is our room!” His voice calls out, ragged and desperate.

“I-” where the fuck IS he gonna go?

Frozen in the doorway, Dave begins to sweat. His heart is beating fast and at uneven pace, skipping and freezing. 

“Dave?” Rose calls out from the darkness. “Karkat? What the hell are you doing?”

Among all the ruckus they were making, they forgot that it’s currently 3 am. 

“Nothing.” Dave calls down the hall.

“...Oooookay. Go to sleep, please.” She pleads from the doorway, too damn tired to play therapist at this hour of the night.

Wordlessly, Dave creeps back into the bedroom, not even looking in Karkat’s direction. He sits as far away as he can from the troll, avoiding not only his eyes but his ears as he begins to hyperventilate. His face begins to feel fuzzy and his brain is static. 

He could hear it now.  _ Get the fuck outta here before I whoop your ass.  _ His brother’s voice feels real, like he’s right behind him.

Slowly, Karkat tests the water with a step in his direction. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dave was never a loud crier, a loud person much at all. But this was too fucking much. Since he was on the meteor, he’d had nightmares and flashbacks and everything under the PTSD handbook. But he hadn’t heard his Bro’s voice in years, hadn’t felt those words punching him in the gut since he repressed them. 

He starts to quake, like he was going to explode any second.

“Dave…” Karkat’s heart is breaking.  _ Why is he so freaked out about telling me he loves me? It isn’t like we’ve basically been flushed or AT LEAST pale this entire time. _

His brain can form one sentence and one sentence only, and it can’t be said at a normal decibel. Feeling like a vulnerable child once more, Dave cries out into the room.

“I’M NOT FUCKING GAY!”

Stunned, Karkat sits there in total stillness. Dave has never,  _ ever _ been that upset. He does  _ not _ yell. He hates yelling.

Karkat is unfamiliar with human relationships, still trying to piece them together, but he remembers what gay is. He wants to take another step toward him, wants to sweep him up in his arms and do their exercises and make everything okay. Wants to shake him by the shoulders and demand he get a hold of himself. Wants to tell him he loves him too.

“Is that what you’re upset about?”  _ How the fuck am I supposed to handle this? _ Karkat thinks.  _ Trolls don’t go through identity crises over who they love. _

Dave doesn’t respond. He only continues to murmur to himself, now sitting in his office chair with his knees to his chest. He looks small, his chest heaving in and out at a rapid pace. Voices and scenes replay over and over. His head feels light as a feather and floaty, like he isn’t even awake. Lights flash in and out of his vision, and his limbs feel like they’re all incredibly heavy. One telltale memory begins playing in his mind, distracting him as he loses consciousness.

The first time Dave ever brought a friend home, he was embarrassed by how his Bro was acting. At only 12 years old, after being too scared and ashamed to bring anyone over, the first boy he ever brought over was merely a friend. Sure, Dave was newly in puberty, so kids at school were of interest to him, but wasn’t everyone looking at boys and girls the same way as him?

Not according to Bro.

“Who’s this, Dave?” Bro flashed behind the two of them, putting one menacing hand on Dave’s shoulder.

“Michael.” Although Dave was scared shitless, he never broke the facade. 

“Mhm.” Bro looked him up and down; he could feel his eyes boring into his back. “Roof. Michael, please make yourself at home in Dave’s bedroom.” Faux southern hospitality.

Being dragged up to the roof by the front of his shirt, Dave tried to pick up the pace of his walk. “What’s this for? You said I could have a friend over.” 

“When I was your age, I wasn’t fuckin’ around with boys. I pulled the girls then, Dave. What the hell are ya, gay?”

“Yo, what the fuck?” To an uneducated 12 year old boy in this straight-centric Texan town, being called gay was the lowest insult you could receive. “I can’t have a friend who’s a dude? Man, stop bein’ bogus an’ let me go.”

“What the hell you jus’ say to me? Get your ass up there.” Before he knew it, they were at the hatch that leads up to the roof. Opening up his own demise, he puts his hand on the latch and twists. The last thing he hears is Bro’s sword being unsheathed and his voice, a slew of slurs he didn’t recognize muttering under his breath. The hot Texas sun beats down on his face and into his eyes as the hatch lifts up.

When he wakes up, screaming as if in pain, he’s lying in a puddle of his own sweat and tears. Karkat, Rose, Kanaya, and Terezi are all huddled up around him with cold compresses and tissues. He feels like he just slept for 30 years.

“What the hell just happened?” Dave says groggily.

“You fucking fainted on me is what just happened. You told me you aren’t… Um…” Should Karkat even say it? “You yelled and then you just flopped over like a limp goddamn noodle and passed out.”

_ Oh, right. _ His inner monologue recalls.  _ I was being a grade-A dumbass. _

“Are you okay if we leave you two alone? We just needed to make sure you’d wake up, Dave.” Kanaya smiles wearily and pats his sweat-soaked forehead. He couldn’t tell who the question was even directed at.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.” Karkat reassures her. Leaving his spot next to Dave on the ground, he gives each girl in the group a huge hug. His face is stained with tears and his nose is running everywhere. He waits until the group is gone before he turns back to Dave, who’s now propped up on one arm, dazed but not confused.

“Dave, I’m so sorry.”

“What? You didn’t do anything, Kat. I’m sorry.”

“Shut up, Dave. Don’t be sorry.” Karkat offers his hand to the man on the floor. Dave grabs his forearm and pulls himself up on his feet. “Rose kinda… told me what was making you so upset. I hope you aren’t mad.”

“Could only be mad at myself.” Dave scoffs. He attempts to wipe at the dried tears streaking his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, but they don’t budge.

“Dave… I know our dynamic is shamed on your home planet. And especially in your specific area of the world, according to Rose.”

“Texas was hell and I lived with the devil.” He laughs to himself, and Karkat is disturbed by how casually he can talk about his own abuse.

“So I understand you’re pissed, or upset, or scared shitless, or all of the above. And if you don’t want to move any further, we never have to, alright dummy? Don’t be hard on yourself. I’ll beat your brain’s ass.”

Dave could cry. Not out of genuine adoration for how kind Karkat is despite Dave literally passing out on him, although that is running through his mind as well. He could cry because  _ what the fuck am I gonna do?  _ And what the fuck is he gonna do indeed. He would be hyperventilating all over again if he weren’t absolutely exhausted. 

“Can we talk in the morning?” he asks, already changing into new pajamas after he sweat through his current pair. 

Karkat could hear his heart breaking.

“Yeah, of course.” he agrees tentatively, voice as soft as it could ever be. 

Together, they clamber into bed. Karkat instinctually goes to wrap one arm around Dave, but his grasp is promptly slid away from. Together, but completely separated.


End file.
